Pirates of the Cornerian
by ArwingAce21
Summary: Sequel to my Millionaire fic. After winning 1 million credits, Fox and the gang are sailing in Krystal's new yacht. They begin to ponder piracy in the Cornerian Sea long ago, and hilarity ensues as team StarFox's ancestors take to the sea in a flashback!


Pirates of the Cornerian

A Semi-Crossover Fan Fiction by ArwingAce21

Disclaimer: I, ArwingAce21, do not own any characters, locations, vehicles, etc. from either the Pirates of the Caribbean or the StarFox franchises. PotC is the property of Walt Disney, and StarFox is the property of Nintendo. I own neither. Though I really wish I did. I also am not responsible for any pain, suffering, mental anguish, or low resale value on your car caused by reading this particular fiction. However, I do own Capt. Jacques McCloud, Skippy, Draco Lombardi, Cris, and the _Grand Vulpine_. Darn, I just spoiled half the story. If you feel like using any of these characters, holler at me on the webpage in my profile. Okay, that's over…

A/N: Just one more quick note before we begin. I called this a semi-crossover fiction because it is entirely set in the StarFox universe. No actual PotC characters or locations are used. They are mostly spoofed, although a few movie quotes and scenes are used. Anyway, the point is this is a StarFox fan fiction first and foremost. Also, this story is intended to be a semi-sequel to my other StarFox humor fic, _Who Desires to Attain the Status of a Millionaire?_ You don't necessarily have to read that to understand this, but to get the full value from it, you should. That sentence made little sense. Oh well.

---

A few weeks after Fox won the million credit prize on the hit game show, _Who Desires to Attain the Status of a Millionaire?_ in a rather unorthodox manner, the StarFox crew was taking a break from saving the Lylat System. Fox, in order to win the million credits, asked Krystal to marry him on national television. She of course accepted and the team got the cash. Fox used his share to repair the Great Fox and get the Arwings ready to fly again. Falco has yet to spend his money (surprisingly), while Slippy used his winnings to get expensive surgery to remove his 1,024 warts caused by the evil amphibian dividing wart disorder. Krystal decided to spend her stash on a nice three deck yacht for the entire crew to use.

And that was where the four ace pilots from StarFox were gathered today. They were sprawled out on Krystal's yacht, the _Sapphire Vixen_. Krystal was always highly creative when it came to naming things. Falco was sprawled out in the hot tub; Fox and his fiancée were sprawled out on the lounge chairs on the deck, sunning themselves, while Slippy was just sprawling in general.

Earlier that morning, Krystal had sailed the yacht out from Corneria City's harbor and into the Cornerian Sea. Fox was amazed at her sailing prowess; he never thought his future wife would be such a good pilot and sea captain. Of course, he didn't see the copy of "Sailing for Dummies" in her pocket. Always be prepared, that's the sailor's motto. Now that the entire gang was out in open water, they planned to try different sea-faring activities like fishing, swimming, not getting attacked by giant squid, etc. But that was to come only after they finished sprawling.

Fox got up from his lounge chair, finally tired of sprawling, and broke the silence.

"Say, the water out here isn't so bad."

"You can say whatever you want; I'll take the sky any day." Falco, like any self-respecting bird, hated water.

"It looks to me like you're the only one actually in water right now," Krystal observed.

"Uhh…" Falco quickly jumped out of the hot tub and dried off.

"Sailing is fun, yeah, but it's not as much fun when you're not shooting at something," said Fox, realizing he was bored.

"How come there isn't a running gag about me yet?" asked Slippy to no one in particular.

"Don't worry, that guy behind the keyboard there will come up with one before long," reassured Krystal.

"Foxie, you're right. I kinda miss shooting stuff," said Falco, growing bored too.

"You know, it'd be fun if we could be like those pirates that sailed these very waters centuries ago. Back before space pirates, or even space travel. Even before Cornerians had mastered the _sky_. Back then, when the open ocean _was_ the final frontier," Krystal mused.

"It would be so cool if some of our ancestors were actual pirates, wouldn't it?" Falco asked.

"Yeah!" everyone answered in unison, except for Slippy, lest a running gag get started should he open his mouth.

Then, something strange happened. A running gag didn't get started. But something even stranger happened. The peaceful scene with the yacht began to turn metallic and ripples formed, as if someone dropped a pebble in a pool of mercury. Actually, my screen looks like that, so it might be best if I lay off the acid for a while.

---

Soon, the ripples ceased and the scene cleared up. It was in black and white now, a sign that we are in the past, just in case the guy behind the keyboard forgot to tell you or something. As the scene cleared further, the color returned and in place of Krystal's yacht was a smallish wooden ship with billowing white sails. Instead of hot tubs and lounge chairs, there was a big wooden steering wheel and one big mast in the center. Along the sides of the main deck were a few cannons, and on the poop deck (the raised deck with the steering wheel) a tall fox with reddish-brown fur manned the wheel. On the main deck, various figures ran about, pulling this line, readjusting that sail. A blue falcon-like member of the avian race was in the crow's nest, looking out for other ships and obstructions. Down in the cargo deck, a green frog was taking inventory.

This small vessel was clearly a merchant ship; the _Grand Vulpine_ was en route to a port, fully laden with a shipment of goods. From the crow's nest, the blue avian yelled something to the captain.

"Cap'n McCloud! Reef about a mile ahead. Steer to the port side to avoid 'em!"

Captain Jacques McCloud quickly spun the wheel and the ship responded suddenly and violently. A crash was heard from the captain's quarters below the poop deck and a blue fox stormed out, her fur covered in ink.

"Jacques! How the heck am I supposed to draw up routes when you're sailing like a madman! Do you expect me to marry a man that can't even sail?!?"

"Uhh…sorry Cris," the captain uttered, embarrassed. He was glad his fur was such a deep ruddy color; otherwise his blush would've been brighter than the ship's lanterns.

The bird in the crow's nest tried to stick up for his captain. "Geeze Cris, he was just trying to avoid a reef. Would you rather have us run aground in the middle of the Cornerian Sea? Don't be so hard on your fiancé."

"You just shut up, Draco Lombardi! I'm covered in ink thanks to the commodore over there."

Jacques mere rolled his eyes at this sardonic remark. Cris was always getting her dander up over something, including pet dander. Cris just glared at Jacques and stormed back into the cabin, nearly bowling over the green frog coming out of the cargo hold.

"I've taken inventory, just as you asked Cap'n."

"Good job, Skippy. It should be smooth sailing until we make port sometime next week."

"Say, Jacques, why's Cris so ticked?"

"Hahaha, nothing more than usual. I had to avoid a reef and she spilled ink all over her fur. She's so vain."

"Yeah, you sure landed a fiery one there, Captain."

"Tell me about it," he said rolling his eyes.

Skippy went over to help out one of the crewmembers moving a cannon, laughing about Cris. It was a wonder they met at all, Jacques and Cris. It was considered highly unlucky to bring a woman aboard a ship these days, and somehow she managed to become first mate aboard the _Grand Vulpine_. Those two were quite a pair, alright.

Skippy's thoughts were interrupted when an alarm went off, which was kind of odd, considering the ship didn't even have alarms.

"What in blazes was that?" exclaimed Capt. McCloud.

"Oh, that was just the Low Humor Content Alarm," said a random voice that sounded strangely like the author's voice. "It goes off anytime the guy behind the keyboard lets this story go too long without a misguided attempt at making a joke."

"Sort of like this," said the Captain.

"Yeah, actually very much like this," agreed the voice.

"Okay then, uhh, what now?" Jacques asked.

"I don't know, you're the captain here."

"Captain, ship sighted on the horizon!" yelled Draco from the crow's nest.

"Colors?" inquired the captain.

"There are none!"

"Pirates!" exclaimed the voice.

"Hey! That was my line!" exclaimed Jacques.

"Oh…sorry. I'm gone!" said the voice, leaving.

"Pirates!" exclaimed Capt. McCloud.

Cris burst out from the captain's quarters, wielding a large staff.

"Pirates? Where?" she asked.

"Put your stick away, it won't help us in a maritime battle," ordered Jacques.

"Captain, orders? They're gaining on us!" asked a frantic Draco.

Cris caught a glimpse of their pursuer's sails. "It's the _Black Pearl_!"

"Load the cannons, arm yourselves, prepare for battle!" ordered Jacques.

The crew was in a frenzy to get the _Vulpine_ in battle condition. Skippy was overseeing the preparation of the cannons, while Draco had left the crow's nest and was giving everyone melee weapons in case they were boarded. In the midst of the chaos, Jacques had a serious concern on his mind.

"Isn't the _Black Pearl_ a Disney copyright?" he asked to no one in particular.

"Yeah, but-" the disembodied voice answered

"I though you left."

"Well, I'm the only one that can answer that."

"Okay then, why is that ship called the _Black Pearl_?"

"Simple. I couldn't think up a witty name that is reminiscent, yet makes a mockery of, the _Black Pearl_. Your ship is the _Grand Vulpine._ It doesn't take a genius to figure out that is a play on the Great Fox, Fox McCloud's dreadnaught class space carrier."

"Who's what?"

"Oh, that's your greatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgrandson. Don't worry about what a 'space carrier' is. It's beyond your understanding."

"Are you insulting my intelligence?"

"No, but you do have a battle to fight. Looks like the _Pearl_ is on you."

"You're right. Gotta go!"

The _Black Pearl_ had used its exceptional speed to catch up to the slow merchant vessel in no time. It was no more than 400 yards behind the _Vulpine_ now.

"Jacques! We can't outrun them, what do we do?" asked a frantic Cris.

"Drop the starboard anchor! We'll turn on them and fire!"

The anchor was quickly dropped, pulling the entire bow of the ship out of the water as it violently turned to engage the pirate vessel. The captain ordered the cannons loaded and aimed. But before he could shoot, the_ Black Pearl_ had turned sideways to present a smaller target and came within 50 yards of the _Vulpine_.

"What in blazes are they doing!?!" yelled Draco to no one in particular.

"It doesn't matter. Fire cannons!" ordered Capt. McCloud.

Before they could fire, the captain of the _Black Pearl_ ran up to the fore of the ship and began to gesture crazily.

"Don't go blowing holes in my ship!!" he yelled.

"Just who the heck are you, pirate?" inquired Jacques sternly.

"My name is Captain Zach Sparrow and I'm not here to attack, plunder, board, destroy, or otherwise cause harm to you or your pathetic little vessel."

"Then what do you want?" Jacques asked of the pirate captain who, incidentally, was a sparrow.

"The author sent me here to keep the plot of the story moving," said the sparrow matter-of-factly.

"Do what?" said Capt. McCloud incredulously.

"Well, thus far we have six pages written. We have to get at least eighteen before that guy behind the keyboard will even consider stopping, so he sent me to invent something to do."

"Some pirate you are."

"Well, what do you propose we do?"

"I, personally, plan to sink your ship and deliver my cargo."

"We are, after all, noble merchants," added Draco.

"My fiancée doesn't consort with the likes of pirates, and neither do I!" said Cris, joining Jacques.

"I tell you what. You forget about your precious cargo, and come with us. I could use more people in the crew; you clearly could use some adventure. Savvy?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Uhh…good question."

"Hmm, Captain McCloud, a little adventure couldn't hurt us too badly," suggested Draco.

"Well?" asked Zach, feeling smug as he was winning over McCloud's crew.

Skippy walked up and joined the other three on the poop deck. "Jacques, we could team up with them for a while. Heck, we might even make more pirating than by moving cargoes from point A to point B like we do now."

"C'mon, Jacques," said Cris, won over by her crewmates. "Let's go for it. If he intended to harm us, we'd be sunk already."

"Captain McCloud, it seems like your crew is ready to join us. Are you?"

Jacques looked at his crew; all had eager faces and seemed ready to go.

"Let's go."

---

Several weeks later, the once-noble crew of the _Grand Vulpine_ had abandoned their lowly merchant ship and joined Captain Zach Sparrow's pirate crew aboard the _Black Pearl_. Draco found himself quite at home on the _Pearl_, seeing as Capt. Sparrow's crew was entirely avian. Zack was a sparrow, obviously. He stood out from the rest of his crew, though, in that he was never seen without his trademark tricorne hat. He usually could be found up on the _Pearl's_ poop deck navigating the ship, his black overcoat flapping in the breeze. His first mate, Jonathan Gibbs, was an amiable pigeon who acted as a father figure to the entire crew when he wasn't busy drinking from his omnipresent hip flask. Manning the wheel when Zach was otherwise occupied was a blue and yellow parrot named Cotton. No one ever heard much from Cotton, but that was understandable, what with his missing tongue and all. There were several other crewmembers on the _Pearl_, but the guy behind the keyboard doesn't feel like listing them because he either forgot their names or just doesn't like them.

Jacques McCloud was in the captain's quarters with Zach, discussing possible options to make money.

"Capt. Sparrow, we've been aboard your ship for several weeks now, and nothing eventful has happened yet."

"How do you know?"

"If something eventful had happened, that feller behind the keyboard there would have written about it."

"Oh. If you want to do something fun, adventurous, entertaining, lucrative, and otherwise interesting, you need to look no further than out that window." Zach motioned towards the large windows that made up the back wall of the captain's quarters.

"It looks like water to me."

"Exactly. Now, keep watching."

Capt. Zach ran up onto the poop deck and spun the wheel, turning the ship violently. Jacques' eyes lit up as an island, previously hidden from view, filled the panes. Jacques began to wonder what that island held in store for them, but was cut off when he heard a familiar voice screeching at Capt. Zach.

"You idiot! Why the heck do people keep trying to capsize their boat whenever I'm working on charts?!? I'm covered in ink AGAIN!!! You bleep !!"

"Cris, you can't go cursing in a K-rated fic, mate."

"Oh. Sorry." Cris went back to working on her charts.

After being blazed out, Zach rejoined Jacques.

"So, Zack, what's so special about that island?" asked Capt. McCloud.

"Nothing. It's what's inside that island that is special."

"Well, what's inside that island?"

"Something."

"Is the 'something' valuable?"

"That depends. What do you value?"

"Typically, I tend to value gold, jewels, and unclaimed properties of a valuable nature."

"Yeah. It's something valuable."

"So you want me to go onto the island to recover the valuable 'something'?"

"No. You want you to go onto the island to recover the valuable 'something.'"

"Just what is the valuable 'something'?"

"Something."

"You're not giving me any help here, mate."

"I'm not supposed to help you. Pirate, remember?"

"Yes, sadly."

"Okay, you and your crew will go onshore tomorrow morning."

"I have little in the way of crew. It's just me, Cris, Skippy, and Draco, and few others."

"What happened to everyone else?"

"Apparently the guy behind the keyboard killed them off over the 'several weeks' we've been aboard your ship."

"Good point."

"Are you going to send any of your crew to help us?"

"Uhh, perhaps Master Gibbs and Cotton. I may come."

"So we will have back up?"

"You're not making any sense here, mate."

"Huh?"

"I think it's time to end this extended dialogue. That feller behind the keyboard seems to be getting delirious."

"Good point. Wonder why he kept this conversation going so long?"

"I'd imagine he wanted to up the page count."

"Okay, I'll go give my crew the news. See you tomorrow morning."

With that, Jacques McCloud left and went to his crews' quarters and prepared them for the next day's expedition. As night fell, Mr. Gibbs went into Capt. Zach's quarters to discuss the trip to the island.

"Is this going to be another huge, boring dialogue?" asked Gibbs.

"I certainly hope not," answered the disembodied voice.

"Who the heck was that?" exclaimed Zach and Gibbs, both jumping to their feet and drawing their weapons. Well, Zach drew his cutlass, Gibbs pulled out his flask since that was what came naturally to him.

"Uhh, no one," answered the voice, quickly running away as fast as a disembodied voice can run.

"That was odd," said Gibbs, putting away his flask after taking a quick swig.

"Agreed."

"Anyway cap'n, are you sure you want to send McCloud and his novice crew out onto Isla Circa tomorrow?"

"Yes. I can see no reason they couldn't do the job any better than we could."

"But you've wanted to claim the treasure there for months! Why let them take the glory now?"

"Simple. That guy behind the keyboard paid me to let them. Remember when we came upon their ship a few weeks ago? I would've attacked and plundered them then and there if he hadn't bribed me. I'm getting paid much better to let them have the treasure than if I went and got the treasure myself. It's amazing what mere writer's block will drive some people to do."

"Okay then, maybe you do know what you're doing."

"No, I usually just make it up as I go."

At this, Mr. Gibbs got up to leave, but was cut off by Zach.

"One last note before you go. You, I, Cotton, and two or three from the crew are going to join them tomorrow. Just because that guy behind the keyboard paid me to let them have the fun doesn't mean we can't get at least a share of the treasure."

"You really don't have an honest side, do you?"

"Nope."

After that exchange, the pigeon (That's Gibbs. Remember, we're still in Lylat, where everyone's an anthropomorphic animal.) grabbed his flask and the sparrow went for the bottle of rum he always kept on his desk.

"To Fan Fictions!" cheered Gibbs, raising his flask.

"To the end of the world wide epidemic of writer's block!" added Sparrow, raising his bottle.

---

The next morning, Capt. Zach Sparrow got up earlier than everyone else, as was his habit. As he walked about the deck, his keen avian eyes spotted a faint dot on the horizon. He pulled out his telescope and saw that the dot was actually another pirate ship! Its jolly roger was proudly waving in the sea breeze, belaying its intentions. Zach immediately knew that they were not alone in seeking the island's treasure, so he tried to capitalize on their slight head start. The captain ran below deck to the crew's quarters and began to holler out orders. Everyone awoke with a start and threw on their clothes as Capt. Zach began to prepare to go ashore. As the crew began to clamor around on deck, Jacques McCloud and his tiny crew emerged from their quarters, oblivious to what was going on.

"Zach! What pray tell is going on?"

"Capt. McCloud, that ship closing on us is what is going on!" replied Zach, gesturing towards the now clearly visible ship on the horizon. He then turned towards the long boats and gave more orders.

"Lower the long boats! Gibbs, Cotton, you sailors over there! Board the first one. McCloud, get your crew in the second one. I'll join you in that one. Now get to it, you scallywags!"

Before long, the small crew from the _Black Pearl _had made it ashore Isla Circa. The other ship finally came in range of the island and, seeing the group from the _Pearl _already on land, opened fire with her full complement of cannons. As the explosive steel spheres screamed overhead, the posse ran for cover. That is, most did. Capt. Sparrow was leisurely strolling around the beach absorbed in his treasure chart. He was trying to pinpoint the location of the treasure, and he wasn't going to let a measly pirate ship's cannons stop him.

"Cap'n, get to some cover!" yelled Gibbs, worried for his captain.

Zach didn't respond. He was taking big steps and feeling for something that no one else could fathom. Finally, a cannonball hit a place on the beach and exploded into splinters. It had struck a hidden wooden trapdoor. Zach's face lit up and he ran over to the trapdoor.

"Come along now! This is it!" he hollered as he disappeared down dark steps into the hole.

The crew looked amongst themselves and then back to the hole. Gibbs finally broke the silence.

"Okay then, to the hole!"

The crew ran across the beach like they were being shot at because they _were_ being shot at. They bailed clumsily down the hole and joined Zach in a dimly lit room, glad to be safe from the marauding ship. It never crossed anyone's mind that the invading pirates may try to capture the captain-less _Black Pearl_. Or did it? You never could tell with Capt. Sparrow in command.

"Well men, we-"

Zach was cut off by Cris loudly clearing her throat.

"Men _and_ woman, excuse me. Anyway, we are here to-"

Zach was cut off again by a loud alarm, which was rather odd, considering few dimly lit underground rooms on deserted islands have alarms.

"What the heck is that?" exclaimed Gibbs.

"Oh, that's the Low Humor Content Alarm," answered the disembodied voice. "It goes off whenever that feller behind the keyboard goes too long without at least trying to make a joke."

"Well, Mr. Disembodied Voice – or is it Captain Disembodied Voice, seeing as almost everyone here is the commander of something – I have a sneaking suspicion that the guy behind the keyboard is actually just biding his time and getting ready to pull something so completely random, out of place, and possibly even related to an event in a Paper Mario game that it will make up for the previous page and a half without comedy. Savvy?"

"Hmm, you may just be right. By the way Zach, Paper Mario is a Nintendo trademark that is not mentioned in the disclaimer, so you better be careful using it. And it is _Commodore_ Disembodied Voice. You should see my fleet. Anyway, I'll let you off with a warning this time. You go too long without humor again and I'll do something…bad."

"Don't fuss at me or my crew. That guy behind the keyboard over there is making all of this happen. The quality of this story is probably going to begin going downhill fast, seeing as he's been sitting there all day typing this without a break. So if you're gonna fuss at someone, aim at him. Savvy?"

"Meh. Sure, I'll go and give him a stern talking to. Have fun in this dark, dank pit. And that ship out there is still shooting at the beach, in case you were wondering. I'm gone now. Buh-bye!"

"Okay…Anyway, men and Cris, we are gathered here in order to-"

Capt. Sparrow was cut off yet again, this time because the dank, dark pit's walls just lit up and a really upbeat song began playing.

"Just what the heck is going on?" asked Draco, surprised at this turn of events and the fact that this is the first major line he's had in a bunch of pages.

The walls were glowing a bright blue color and the theme music grew louder. As the lights got brighter, a pedestal on the far side of the room came into view. The crew slowly crept forward into this strange cave, but when a giant stone head fell onto the pedestal from a hole in the ceiling, they fell over backwards in surprise.

"Just what in blazes is this!?!" asked Jacques McCloud to Zach, who was unable to answer, yet still managed to keep his cool.

"I have no clue. The chart says there's a treasure here, but this is beyond weird."

The giant stone head turned around on the pedestal to face the pirates and its two eyes opened up. Then, it began to speak.

"Hello and welcome to _Isla Circa's Cave Quiz_! I'm your host, Rocky S. Granite and, if you can get five out of seven questions correct, you can go home with this fabulous prize!"

Another panel in the room's wall lifted to reveal a chest full of gold and jewels of every manner.

"And now, seeing as there are a bunch of you out here, you're going to need to select a contestant to answer the questions."

At this, Jacques' crew began screaming for him to be the contestant, and Zach's crew clamored for him to be the contestant. Quickly growing tired of this racket, Rocky allowed them both to be the contestant.

"Okay, according to my infinite knowledge of all contestants, you are Captain Zach Sparrow, commander of the _Black Pearl_. You became captain after-"

Zach cut off the giant talking stone head to state what was on everyone's collective mind.

"Is this a dream?"

"No," answered Rocky dryly.

"I thought not. If it was, there'd be rum."

"I can do that," said the rock and a bottle of rum dropped from a hole in the ceiling and was caught by Zach.

"Okay, next we have ex-Captain Jacques McCloud, a once-honest merchant sailor turned pirate who is out to have fun, experience adventure, and fill up page space so that the guy behind the keyboard can quit typing this fic and do something productive, such as brush his teeth."

"Sounds about right to me," said McCloud.

The audience (the crewmembers) cheered, excited that they were in the first game show ever in Cornerian history!

"Okay, it is time to play _Isla Circa's Cave Quiz_!!! The rules are simple: I ask seven questions. If you get five right, you win our fabulous prize. And if you miss more than two, well, you don't wanna know. But let's get started!

The audience erupted into wild, untamed applause. It is rather hard to tame applause, isn't it? I've never personally seen it done.

Zach and Jacques stepped up to a raised platform and the quiz began!

"Okay, question one. Answer this riddle: 'Ever coming, never here; Always expected, never arrives. As soon as it gets here, it's not here.'"

Zach began to rack his brain, but was having little luck. "Do we have any life lines?"

"No," answered Rocky. "What do you think this is, _Who Desires to Attain the Status of a Millionaire?_"

"Darn," said Zach.

While Rocky was making references to previous (read: "awesome") fan fictions by the guy behind the keyboard, Jacques McCloud was conferring with his crew. When he returned to the podium, he knew the answer.

"Do we have an answer, Mr. McCloud?" asked the big rock.

"Try 'tomorrow' as your solution," said McCloud.

"Dingdingding!!!" said Rocky. "That's correct! How'd you know?"

"Back on the _Grand Vixen_, Cris and I always play a game that is riddle-intensive. She and I know our riddles."

"That's a good thing, considering almost every question here is a riddle. Anyway, question numero dos is 'What vexes all men, with some exceptions, such as Elton John and most male fashion designers?'"

"Who the heck is Elton John?" asked Zach.

"I have no clue," answered Jacques.

"Don't worry too much about it. It isn't a vital clue," said Rocky. "Also, this is a non-conferring question, so you can't ask your crews for help."

Cris, who was exceptionally good at quizzes like this, knew the answer, and cleared her throat loudly in hopes of conveying the answer to her fiancé nonverbally. He managed to completely miss her attempt at helping him.

"Zach, you got any ideas?" asked McCloud.

"Nope," he replied, taking a swig from his bottle of rum.

Cris cleared her throat even louder, hoping to get Jacques to look at her. The answer was painfully obvious; if she could simply get him to look at her, he would know the answer. When Jacques finally looked, she gestured suggestively towards her more…uh…feminine parts.

"Not now, Cris, I'm kinda in the middle of a quiz show."

Cris rolled her eyes in the most sardonic manner she could without literally dripping sarcasm everywhere, which would've been a mess to clean up.

"You idiot!" exclaimed Zach, hitting Jacques over the head. "The answer is a woman! Female!"

"Corrrrrrrrect!" said Rocky "Good job Zack, and I'll also give a shout out to Cris for the excellent assist without breaking any rules. We'll get to question three after this quick commercial break."

"Uhh, Rocky, what's a commercial?" asked Jacques.

"Oh, yeah, they are the little advertisements that come on the television between shows," answered Rocky.

"What is a television?" asked Zach.

"Never mind…" said the big rock head. "Okay, you have two questions correct, only three more and you walk away with the treasure of Isla Circa! Question three is, 'What does no man desire, yet no man want to be rid of?'"

"What is with all these riddles?" asked Jacques in a slightly agitated manner.

"Hey, you try running a quiz show set a couple of centuries behind the events of the universe it is set in without making any references to the future, or to the world where that guy behind the keyboard exists," answered Rocky.

"Huh?" uttered everyone in unison.

"Never mind…"

As the two captains racked their minds to find the answer to this riddle, their crews began to confer amongst themselves in an attempt to figure it out. Gibbs and Cris were in an animated argument. He thought the answer was a job, which was close, but Cris suspected that it was a physical part of the man's body. Cotton knew the answer, but since he was a mute, he couldn't very well tell anyone. Draco and Skippy were playing a game of poker, oblivious to the world around them. The walls were still glowing with the blue lights. The floor was collecting dust.

"Meh, does anyone in the audience know this one?" asked Zach to the two crews. "Mr. Granite over there hasn't declared this a non-conferring question, so speak up, savvy?"

Cotton began to wave his hands frantically towards his head, trying to tell Capt. Sparrow the answer.

"Speak up Mr. Cotton," said Zach. "Oh…never mind…"

As usual, it was up to Cris to give the answer away.

"Jacques! The answer is a bald head!"

"A bald head?" he said cautiously. "That doesn't make any sense. Why wouldn't a man want to lose his baldness?"

"You idiot!" exclaimed Zach, now sure of his answer. "If you lose your bald head, you don't have a head! You'd be dead!"

"So 'a bald head' is your final answer?" asked Rocky.

"Hey, that's my line! Quit infringing on _Who Desires to Attain the Status of a Millionaire?_ copyrights!" said Reginald Phlubbin, host of said game show and star of another of the guy behind the keyboard's fan fictions as he randomly strolled across the set of _Isla Circa's Cave Quiz_.

"Uhh, sorry Reginald. What are you doing in the past, anyway?" said the rock head.

"Well, um, to tell the truth, I don't know. I was in my office and that guy over there typing this fic whisked me over here to the past. I hope he whisks me back to the present soon because I was making a long distance call and my bill is going to be ex-PEN-sive if I don't get back and hang up soon-"

Reginald was cut off because the guy behind the keyboard was growing tired of this gag and decided to whisk him back to the present.

"Ahem," said Zach, trying to restore some semblance of order to this story. "Our answer is a bald head."

"Coooooorect!" said everyone's favorite stone head. "Again, Cris saves the day. Perhaps y'all should have appointed her to be the contestant."

"Just get on with the next question," said Zach, ready to get out of this dank hole in the ground. That, and he was also running out of rum.

"Okay, get the next two questions correct and you are a winner. Question four is 'What do you call a hot potato?'"

"Just what the bleep type of question is that, you bleep ?" screamed Cris, obviously annoyed at the rock head's choice of question. "And what is that bleeping sound!?!"

"Ah, Cris, I told you once before, you can't curse in a K-rated fic, mate," corrected Zach.

"Oh. Sorry. Carry on."

"Hmmm, a 'hot potato.' That doesn't make any sense," mused Jacques. "A spud in the sun?"

"No McCloud, that can't be it. It doesn't even rhyme or anything," said Zach.

"At least it uses alliteration!" contended Jacques.

"Yes, but it lacks style, form, it's not aesthetically pleasing."

"Well, it uses figurative language."

"No it doesn't. 'In the sun' doesn't paint a mental image."

"Yes it does! You think of a potato sitting out on a sun-soaked beach."

"No, I think of a potato on the deck of my ship on a hot day."

"Aye, but the point is you picture a potato doing something."

"No I don't- Hey! That was cheap!"

While Jacques and Zach were bickering, Cotton had a good idea as to the answer. He began to wave his arms frantically and gesticulate something. Unfortunately, no one noticed him.

"Uh, guys, I need an answer," said Rocky S. Granite.

"Our answer is 'A spud in the sun,'" said Jacques confidently.

"No it isn't!" exclaimed Zach.

"I'm sorry, that is not the correct answer," said Rocky with a frown.

"I told you so!" yelled Zach.

"What is the correct answer, then?" asked Jacques.

"The correct response was 'A Spud Stud.' Hahahahahahahahaha!" Rocky burst into a fit of laughter as he revealed the answer; absolutely sure that he was the cleverest rock on the planet.

Everyone else just stared at him like he was a baggie of deceased rat parts.

"Hahahahahahahaha…oh," said the rock as he regained his composure. "Sorry. Anyway, you have missed one question so far, but don't worry. There are seven questions. You can miss one more and still win. If you get two more correct, the prize is yours!"

The audience went from hardly amused stares to excited applause with this reassuring statement.

"Okay, question five is 'What is my middle name?'"

"That's another unfair question," noted Cris, doing a good job of keeping her temper in check.

"So what? You still have to get it correct to win," answered Rocky S. Granite slightly smugly.

"Hmm, I'm going to have to think on this one for a bit," stated Jacques.

Gibbs, a budding geologist, had an idea as to a possible answer.

"Cap'n, if I may suggest an answer," ventured Gibbs.

"By all means, go ahead," said Zach.

"Since his name is Rocky S. Granite, we can assume his middle name is related to rocks or geology in some sense. Since his last name is Granite, we need to think of all forms of rock that are in the granite family that begin with s. I know that gneiss is in that particular family, but the old axiom, 'I may be gneiss, but don't take me for granite' doesn't help us at all, seeing as gneiss doesn't begin with s. Slate, however, does, so I strongly suggest you give the word sl-"

"You're not making any sense at all, mate," observed Zach, bursting Gibbs' ego. "Stone is your middle name, and that is my answer."

Before Jacques could object, or anyone else for that matter, Rocky told them their fate.

"Correct! But Mr. Gibbs' explanation made so much more sense, why didn't you go with his answer?"

"Because it was Mr. Gibbs that suggested it," answered Zach matter-of-factly.

"I'm glad you have such faith in your first mate," noted Rocky sarcastically, motioning towards Gibbs with his eyes, the only thing a giant stone head can motion with. Gibbs was sitting in a corner sulking.

"Anyway, if you simply get the next question correct, you will win the fabulous prize! So, with that in mind, here's question six: 'If peanut oil comes from peanuts, and soybean oil comes from soybeans, then where does baby oil come from?'"

"That is a trick question and you know it!" exclaimed Cris, fed up with these ridiculous questions.

"Yup, I know it," replied the rock. "That's why I'm asking it."

"Ah, calm down Cris," said Zach. "We'll figure this one out. Besides, we can afford to miss one more."

"Any ideas?" asked Jacques to his crew.

"Nope," replied Draco, still busy playing poker.

"Darn."

"Well, there is one obvious answer, seeing as this is a trick question" observed Zach. "Baby oil coming from babies has got to be it. It matches his pattern."

"Okay, if you really think that's the answer, go for it," said Jacques. "We have no way of knowing what's going on in that rock's mind. Heck, we don't even know if he has a mind!"

"Well, Rocky, I'm going to say 'babies' as my answer."

"You idiot, baby oil is mineral oil!" exclaimed the rock head. "Do you really think they kill babies to make oil for other babies?"

"Well, no, but-" Zach was cut off when Rocky put on his frowny face and gave a grim assessment of the situation.

"Well guys, you have missed two out of your two allotted questions, and if you miss the next one, well…you don't want to know."

"Why don't we want to know?" asked Zach, reaching for his cutlass.

"Well, if you must know what happens to the losers, then look up."

All the pirates gathered in the small underground room gazed up at the ceiling and noticed many holes similar to the one Zach's bottle of rum fell down from.

"If you miss the next question, metal spears will fall from those holes, effectively skewering all of you to the floor and giving this fairly upbeat story a rather macabre ending."

"Couldn't we just all make a break for the stairs we came down to get here if Zach and Jacques miss the next question?" asked Gibbs.

"Well, actually, that idea never crossed my mind. I imagine you could. But what incentive would that feller behind the keyboard have for letting you escape if he could end this story right now by killing all of you? We are at eighteen pages and, if you'll recall, at page six Zach said that he (the author) wouldn't stop writing until we were at page 18. So it makes sense for him to kill y'all now."

"Why don't you just ask question seven and we'll find out what he intends to do, because I believe he's growing tired of this particular conversation," suggested Cris, who was, incidentally, growing tired of this particular conversation.

"Okay, question seven is going to be another riddle. It reads-"

"Just another riddle? How anticlimactic…" mused Cris, who was hoping for something more substantial to make up the story's climax.

"Yeah, just another riddle," said Rocky. "Apparently the guy behind the keyboard there is fighting off the evil writer's block monster. Anyway, seeing as all of you are pirates, I picked this one especially for y'all. What runs fore to aft on one side of a ship and aft to fore on the other? Except for a drunken sailor."

He gestured towards Zach, who was eyeing his empty bottle of rum. When he realized everyone was looking at him, he sheepishly put away the bottle and began work on the riddle.

"Hmm, fore to aft and aft to fore," mused Zach. "I have no clue. The keel does, but that's just one thing, so I doubt that's it."

"Do any of you know the answer?" Jacques inquired of the crews.

"Nope," replied Draco, whose pile of winnings from Skippy was growing larger and larger.

"Cris, how about you? You are usually good with these," said Jacques.

"Well, uh, I'm thinking. Hang on," she replied.

"Cotton, you have any ideas?" asked Zach.

Cotton glared.

"Oh…never mind."

"Zach, think about every part on the _Black Pearl_. It has to be one of them," said Cris.

"Hmm...everything on the _Black Pearl_," mused Zach. "That's it!"

"What's it?" inquired Cris.

"The _Black Pearl_! A ship's name runs fore to aft on one side and aft to fore on the other!" exclaimed Zach.

"Coooooooooorect!" yelled Rocky, as happily as a giant stone head could yell. "A ship's name is the correct answer. You just became the first crew in _Isla Circa's Cave Quiz_ history to win the grand prize!"

The audience erupted into wild, frenzied, and otherwise unrestrained applause because they knew that they'd be getting a share of the prize money.

"Not that I'm sad about winning or anything, but just how many people have played this quiz game so far?" asked Cris amid the cacophony.

"Uhh, well, counting y'all, one," answered Rocky. "Anyway, go right over there and claim your prize!"

Zach and Jacques walked over to the small hole in the wall where the treasure gleamed and picked up the huge chest. Or tried to pick it up. It was a huge mahogany chest piled full of gold and jewels.

"Master Gibbs, get your pirate tail feathers over here and help us pick this thing up!"

He quickly ran over to the chest and their combined strength was enough to pick it up. As the crews made their exit from the underground room, Rocky bid everyone farewell. After Gibbs, Jacques, and Zach made it up the stairs and out onto the beach, Zach recalled that he forgot to say something very important and went back down a few of the stairs to address Rocky.

"Mr. Granite, you'll always remember this as the day you _almost_ out quizzed-"

He was cut off as he fell down the steps and landed in a heap on the floor. He picked himself up and quickly retreated up the stairs, muttering "Captain Zach Sparrow" under his breath as he left.

Once the entire crew made it back out onto the beach, they jumped up and down for joy. They had won the treasure of Isla Circa! But they soon remembered that another pirate ship was bombarding them when they first arrived here. Where was it now?

"Captain Zach! What happened to that other ship?" asked Gibbs.

"Hmm. Another ship? Ah, the one that was shooting at us. It would seem as if they are gone now."

"But why'd they leave? The _Pearl_ was just sitting out there, ripe for the picking. They probably tried to attack her!" exclaimed Cris, hoping she would have a ship to return to.

"Cris, you're forgetting that the vast majority of my crew is still aboard the _Black Pearl_. Only Cotton, Mr. Gibbs, myself, and one or two others came along. My ship has the biggest cannon complement in the Cornerian Sea. That other boat is probably halfway to Davy Jones' Locker right about now. Savvy?"

And with this reassuring statement, the crew returned to the _Pearl,_ (which was still there; perhaps Zach _did_ know what he was doing) the treasure and Zach on one longboat, everyone else in the other. Once aboard, they divvied up the treasure and Jacques' crew came away with quite a pretty penny.

Several days after leaving Isla Circa, the _Black Pearl_ made port. Before the two crews went their separate ways, they had one last conversation.

"Tell me, Captain Jacques McCloud. Just what are you planning to do with your share of the treasure?"

"Well, Zach, I've been talking with Draco, Skippy, and Cris. The other members of the crew seem to want to leave and do their own thing, and seeing as we have no ship, I'm in no position to object. Anyway, the four of us decided we'd buy a small ship and go into business as privateers. You know, mercenaries of the sea."

"And what do you plan to call your gang of ocean-going mercenaries?"

"Well, since we'll be practically living on the sea, and since I, a fox, am the leader, we decided to call our outfit team SeaFox."

Suddenly, the picture of Capt. Zach and Capt. Jacques and his crew on the dock turned into a metallic image, ripples slowly distorting the view. Soon, the silvery ripples gave way to a colorful scene of a yacht out in the Cornerian Sea.

---

"Yep, Krystal, it sure would be something if our ancestors were pirates out in the Cornerian," mused Fox, visions of old galleons and treasure chests filling his mind.

"Wouldn't it be neat if team StarFox actually started out as a gang of pirates?" asked Falco?

"Nah," said Fox. "That's way too farfetched. Something that romantic could never happen."

"Yeah Fox," added Krystal, putting her arm around her fiancé. "The only romance this gang is going to experience today is watching Solar set over that horizon."

And with these words, team StarFox settled down on the top deck of Krystal's yacht and watched the Lylat system's only star slowly slide down the sky and be swallowed by the wide blue Cornerian Sea.

"Hey!" exclaimed Slippy, ruining the peaceful scene. "I never got my running gag!"


End file.
